Dead's not Dead Enough
by Disasteriffic Kaz
Summary: Written for a prompt: Sam cleans out the Impala's back seat and finds something Ruby left behind a long time ago. Tag to the end of 6x14 "Mannequin 3: The Reckoning" A little hurt and a lot of comfort for Sam from Dean and Bobby.


**Title:** Dead's not Dead Enough

**Author:** Disasteriffic Kaz

**Info:** Written for a prompt: Sam cleans out the Impala's back seat and finds something Ruby left behind a long time ago. Tag to the end of 6x14 "Mannequin 3: The Reckoning" A little hurt and a lot of comfort for Sam from Dean and Bobby.

**Author's Note:** This one is written for a prompt from Jennifer Lawson: _Cleaning out the car Sam finds Ruby's original hex bag she made for him, he hadn't touched it or thought about her in a long time, when he goes to throw it away he finds out she left a backup plan in case Dean did kill her.  
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**Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678** :D– Friend and Muse's co-conspirator.

_**Follow me on Facebook as "Disasteriffic Kaz" for frequent fic updates or just to chat!__**  
**_**_~Reviews are Love~_**

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Dean leaned over the engine block of the Impala checking the heads and smiled to himself. It warmed something inside him to hear Sam say he had his back and know that he meant it - really, truly meant it because he had his soul back. He had _his_ Sam back.

"What can I do?" Sam asked and took a drink from his beer. He smiled and shrugged when Dean turned to look at him over his shoulder. "What? I'm just standing here. Give me a job."

Dean smirked. "Clean out the inside. All kinds of crap in there came flyin' out from under the seats when 'Christine' ran my baby into the wall."

Sam chuckled and set his beer aside. "I don't think the car took it personally."

"She's deeply insulted!" Dean protested and ran a soft hand over the front fender. "Don't listen to him, baby."

"Therapy, Dean. You need it." Sam laughed and climbed into the backseat, lying down along the bench seat after seeing Dean flip him the finger around the raised hood. He pulled an empty, plastic grocery bag from the floor and started filling it with the empty soda cans that had rolled from under the seat and wondered idly how long they had been there. "Dude, do I even wanna know the last time we were somewhere with a Hardee's?" Sam called with a laugh when he tugged the crumpled bag from under the driver's seat.

Dean looked up for a moment, thinking and then snorted. "Hell, no." He was pretty sure it had been more than six months.

"Yeck." Sam shoved it into the bag and dug under the driver's seat, coming out with two more cans, an empty beer bottle and a crushed pack of cigarettes. "Dean." Sam sat up and leaned out of the car, holding up the empty pack. "What the hell? I thought you quit this crap when you were like…sixteen."

Dean looked around the hood and had the grace to look embarrassed. He shook his head as his cheeks reddened. "I hit a little rough patch." The humor fled his face then for remembered pain.

Sam opened his mouth and then closed it, realizing what that 'rough patch' had been; his death. "Right. Uh, never mind. Sorry." He tossed it into the bag and went back to his cleaning. Sam bent under the passenger seat and pulled out two crushed water bottles and made a mental note to throw his trash out more often. He leaned down and felt around, coming up with an empty salad shake container and rolled his eyes at himself before bending back. "Do we ever throw anything out?"

"Shuddup! I keep her clean!" Dean pulled his good mood back around him with effort, and Sam's long-suffering comment helped. He never thought he'd miss it like this.

Sam snorted. "Not as clean as you think," He muttered, amused and dug under his seat again. "Shit!" He cursed as something stabbed into the palm of his hand.

"What? You find a cockroach?" Dean asked, only half-kidding.

"No. Dammit." Sam pulled his hand out from under the seat and stared in surprise at the small, black bag in his hand. "Whoa." It sent a wave of emotion; grief and self-recrimination through him.

"Sam?" Dean set his wrench aside and went around to the open door. "Dude, what?" The look on his brother's face was one of shock as he rounded the door and leaned in for a look. "What the hell is that?"

Sam opened his mouth without speaking a couple times and cleared his throat. "It's uh…It's the first Hex bag…Ruby gave me." He glanced up at Dean's suddenly stony face. "You remember. The ones she made to hide us from the demons…the other demons."

"Yeah. I remember," Dean said grimly.

Sam picked it out of his left hand with his right and scowled at the small pool of blood. "Don't remember this having anything sharp in it."

"Gimme that damn thing," Dean growled and took it from his little brother. He shouted in surprise and dropped it as something bit into his finger. "What the hell?" He looked and found blood welling from a small puncture. He snarled and stomped on the hex bag. He took out his lighter, knelt, and set it aflame. "Dead for years, and that bitch is STILL screwing with us!"

Sam shook his head and shook the blood from his hand out onto the ground. "I don't get it."

"What's not to get?" Dean asked angrily and sucked at the wound on his finger for a moment. "She was a crazy, two-faced bitch, Sam."

"No, no. I mean…" Sam climbed out and stood, watching the little bag burn. "I never put that under the seat. I'd swear I burned it…when I tried…when Lilith…"

"I remember that too." Dean closed his eyes, remembering his brother's one, stupid attempt to lure the demon out and kill her.

"Ruby must have made another just like it." Sam looked down at his hand. "So I wouldn't notice. Why?"

"She's dead, dude. I don't think it matters after all this time." Dean stepped on the ash of the burnt bag once it went out and scuffed it around.

Sam shook his head again. "No, man. She never did anything without a reason. You know that." He shook his hand out again and frowned as it began to numb from the palm out. "Does your hand feel weird?"

Dean's brows rose and he looked at his finger. "Huh. Yeah, my finger's numb."

A feeling of foreboding swept through Sam. "This is not good. You shouldn't have burned it." Sam dropped to his knees and used his right hand to sift through what was left of the bag. "Bones and…think this was…paper or something. Damn. There might have been a spell."

"I burned it. We're good," Dean said as if Sam needed reminding how hex bags worked.

"Then why are our hands going numb?" Sam asked and looked up at him. "No. There's something else going on h-here." His voice faltered as a strange, weightless feeling rushed up through him and he swayed on his knees.

"Whoa! Sam?" Dean grabbed Sam's shoulder, stopping him from falling over backward. "Dude, what's going on?"

"Don'…don' feel…so good." Sam's eyes dropped closed and he heard Dean calling his name and then nothing as blackness claimed him.

"Sam? Sammy!" Dean caught him as he collapsed. "BOBBY!" He screamed it out and put the hand that wasn't numb to his brother's neck. "Shit," He gasped and dropped his head into Sam's hair for a second when he found his heart beating steadily. Dean jerked his head up as Bobby called. "Over here! Garage!" he felt a strange feeling begin to move up his arm and his panic ratcheted up another notch. "Hurry up!"

"Dean? What the hell's…" Bobby trailed off in shock when he found Dean holding his brother on the ground. "What happened?"

"That." Dean pointed to the burnt remains of the hex bag. "Sam found it under the seat. It's an old hex bag that Ruby bitch made. It stabbed him and then me and he passed out." Dean was speaking quickly because the odd feeling was growing stronger. "Think I'm about to join him so you figure this out." He looked up and met Bobby's eyes with a fierce look. "Don't you let him die, Bobby."

"Not gonna let either one of you idjits die." Bobby took his shoulder and tried not to let fear choke him as Dean's eyes rolled back in his head and he slid back against the car with Sam still in his grip. "Balls!"

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Dean blinked and took a moment to try and remember what the hell was happening. There was nothing to see, just a smoky sort of darkness around him, and nothing to hear either. He remembered his brother, the hex bag, Bobby…Dean jerked up with a gasp. "Sam!"

"Hey, Dean. What a surprise."

Dean looked up and felt the bottom drop out of his world. "No. No way. You're dead! We killed you!" Ruby stood before him, just as they had last seen her and smiled down at him.

"Oh, I know I'm dead." Ruby shrugged. "Have to say, I didn't expect to get you too. This is…very cool. So tell me, how did I die?"

"What the hell's going on? Where's Sam? Sam!" Dean got to a knee and then his feet, backing a few steps away from the demon.

"Over there." Ruby waved an arm. "I haven't let him wake up yet. He's so much more…pliable like this."

"Pliable? You bitch!" Dean raised a hand and grunted as he was thrown to land beside his brother. "How are you even doing this?"

"You think I didn't know you were on to me, Dean?" Ruby scoffed. "How stupid do you think I am? Sorry…was." She glared at him. "I had to plan ahead. Call this my 'just in case' scenario."

"Just in case of what?" Dean rolled back to his knees and checked on Sam. He was still out, and Dean had to work to contain his rage when he saw blood smeared around his mouth. "What the hell have you done?"

"You know he walked away from me? Of course you know." Ruby shook her head. "That was not in the game plan, Dean. We need Sam and we need him…powerful."

"This isn't real." Dean rubbed his thumb through the blood around Sam's mouth fearfully, understanding suddenly that it was hers; she had fed his unconscious brother her blood. "This isn't real, so it doesn't matter."

"Oh, it matters." Ruby laughed. "You think I wouldn't find a way to make sure feeding him my blood here would carry through to the real world?" She waggled a finger at him playfully. "You never did give me enough credit, Dean. Then again, neither did Sam."

"What the hell is this?" Dean yelled and stood, putting himself between his brother and her.

"I thought you might kill me before I could get Sam where he needs to be…to do what he needs to do." Ruby laughed again. "In case you're wondering, I'm telling you all this because you won't be leaving here alive." She put a finger to her lips as if thinking. "Or, maybe I'll just erase your memory of this and let you live after all. Imagine how it will drive you mad trying to figure out what happened to him?" She nodded to Sam. "You'll fight with him. You won't believe him when he tells you he doesn't remember drinking the demon blood. You know? I think maybe I will let you out of here." She gave him a satisfied smile. "With your memory appropriately wiped."

"I got a shock for you bitch." Dean grinned and it wasn't friendly. "You lost."

The smile on Ruby's face faltered. "What do you mean 'lost'?"

"The whole enchilada, sweetheart." Dean threw his arms wide. "We kicked ole' Luci's ass right back into the cage. Apocalypse…" Dean put his arms up like goalposts. "…averted."

"You lie!" Ruby hissed it at him angrily.

"Sorry, sister. You screwed the pooch." Dean shrugged and crossed his arms. "As a bonus, we locked his ass down along with that douchey brother of his, Michael. Got no one to beat on but each other for all eternity. The world's safe and we won. Suck it."

"No! NO!" Ruby screamed and Dean shouted in surprise as he was lifted from his feet and thrown to slide across the hard ground. "You're lying! We're so close! Only Lilith is left now!"

Dean groaned and got to his knees. "Ganked her too."

"Then Lucifer is free!" Ruby's face beamed. "Then you are lying. He walks the world and you will fail."

"Wrong." Dean rubbed his sore shoulder and walked back over to Sam. "We found the key to your daddy's prison." He smiled at her. "Rings of the four horsemen. Me and Sammy, we stuffed his ass back into his cage. You. Lost. Now let us the hell outta here."

"No, no, no!" Ruby paced back and forth, wringing her hands. "It can't be. It can't!"

"You've been dead almost three years, bitch!" Dean knelt next to his brother and pulled his head and shoulders into his lap. He looked down at him. "I stabbed you with your own damn knife and Sam held you for me." He looked up at her with another grim smile. "He figured you out. He beat you." He turned his gaze back to Sam while she raged, screaming into the darkness around them. "Sammy?" Dean tapped his brother's cheek. "Come on, buddy. Wake up. Sam."

"He's…Lucifer's…then there's nothing," Ruby said softly as all her hopes and her dreams crumbled around her. She shook her head. "No. You trapped him with the rings. I can let him out with them." She turned and glared over at Dean. "I can make Sam do it for me." A smile began to creep across her face. "He won't even realize what he's doing."

"No can do, you demonic bitch." Dean shook his head. "The rings are gone, and I'd like to see you try and get Death's ring back from him." Dean chuckled. "That guy does NOT have a sense of humor. Believe me."

"NO!" Ruby screamed it and flung her arms out.

Dean went flying once more, landing hard enough to knock the air out of him. He rolled to his side and snarled with rage when he saw her bent over his brother. "Get…away from him!"

Ruby sliced her wrist open with her own nail and pried Sam's jaw open, letting the blood fall in. "I can make him! I can make him so powerful even Death can't stop him!"

Dean saw the light of madness in her eyes and crawled to his feet. "No."

"I own him here and when I let him wake, he'll hunt down every demon he can find and drain them dry!" Ruby closed Sam's mouth and forced his throat to swallow. "You won't be able to stop him. No one will!"

"No way…in hell." Dean threw himself at her. He slammed into her and rolled her off his brother in a tangle of arms and legs. He drove his fist into her face and wished he had his damn knife in this twisted dreamland of hers. "You're not…getting my brother…again!" He punctuated each word with a blow to her face until she went still and he staggered back off of her and shook out his hand. A low moan from behind him had him at his brother's side in a heartbeat.

"Sammy?" Dean pulled Sam's upper body into his arms again, leaning him up and trying not to freak out at the thought of how much blood she'd gotten into him.

Sam coughed at the taste in his mouth. It was familiar and disturbing and his eyes shot open with recognition and panic. "NO!"

"Hey! Easy!" Dean held onto him while Sam leaned over and gagged, throwing up. It turned his own stomach watching the bloody mess spew out on the dark ground. "Breathe, Sammy. Take it easy."

Sam fell back into his brother gasping and floundering in confusion. "Dean! What…why…"

"Breathe!" Dean calmly wiped some of the blood still hanging from Sam's chin with the back of his hand. "Short version? That bitch Ruby left a little magical landmine in my damn car. We tripped it. She tried to dose you with demon blood 'cause this version of her has no clue you kicked the devil's ass." He nodded as the panic in Sam's eyes started to calm. "Also, I think maybe I beat her head in and she doesn't get all the 'can't die' demonic perks in here." He grinned down at Sam. "Gotta admit man…that kinda felt good."

Sam craned his head to look around the odd, formless darkness until he found Ruby's bloodied body. "She's…dead? I mean…again. You're sure?"

"No." Dean eased Sam out of his arms. "But I'm about to go make sure. You good?" He took Sam's scared and confused look for a yes and stood. He stalked back over to her body and knelt. Dean took in her ruined face and put a hand to her throat. There was the shadow of a pulse but it was weak and fading, slowing by the second. "Yeah, she's done for."

"Does that mean…we go back?" Sam struggled up until he was sitting and wiped at his face. "God, Dean?"

"It'll be alright, Sam." Dean went back to him and pulled his brother to his feet. "Promise."

Sam nodded and looked over at Ruby's body as it suddenly seemed to shimmer and dissolve. "Dean." He nodded over to her.

"Maybe you should click your heels together or something, Dorothy," Dean said and grinned at the look of disgust on his brother's face.

"God, you are such a jerk," Sam rolled his eyes even as the comfortable old insults calmed him. If Dean was making fun of him, it couldn't be that bad.

Dean watched the shifting darkness around them and saw the moment it began to dissolve. "Hey, it's working. Hang on." He kept an arm around his brother's back, afraid of being separated from him wherever the hell they were. The darkness around them seemed to fall apart and sink in. Dean felt Sam's hand clamp down on his wrist as their small world was swallowed up.

Dean blinked heavy eyes open and frowned. "…the hell? Bobby?" He realized he was looking up at the ceiling of Bobby's living room and, as he pushed an arm under him, lying mostly on the beat-up couch with one leg hanging off.

"Dean!" Bobby was at his side in a swift movement and took his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Sam! Where's Sam?" Dean shoved up and teetered for a moment, grateful when Bobby kept him from falling over.

"Right here." Bobby shifted so Dean could see his little brother laid out on the floor with a pillow and blanket. "You idjits are too damn heavy for me to drag anywhere else. What the hell happened?" He helped Dean sit up and then ease down to the floor next to his brother.

"Ruby," Dean told him darkly. "I don't know what the hell was in that hex bag of hers, but her…I dunno, ghost or something got hold of us." He smiled thinly and looked up at the older man. "I killed her. It cut us loose."

Bobby blew out a breath in relief. "I dug, Dean. I couldn't find a damn thing on what she'd done or how to wake you two up. Think I called every damn Hunter across the country tryin' to figure it out."

"Every…Bobby, how long were we out?" Dean frowned at the odd expression on the man's face.

"How long did it feel like?" Bobby asked instead.

Dean shrugged a shoulder. "An hour maybe? Less?" He rubbed at his other shoulder. "Crap. I was kinda hoping I'd wake up and that wouldn't hurt." The fact that the injuries he'd sustained in the …dream whatever, had followed him out made him suffer for Sam.

"Dean, you two have been in a damn coma for three days," Bobby told him and nodded when Dean looked up at him in shock. "I was about to break out the damn IV's and hook you both up."

"A drink would…would be nice." Sam muttered from his spot on the floor and opened his eyes to find Dean sitting next to him. "Hey."

"How you feelin'?" Dean asked and gave his brother a look that said not to give him crap this time.

Sam sighed in defeat. "Like you should probably get me downstairs." He could feel a cramping starting in his stomach that he knew all too well. "How much?"

"Enough," Dean replied, knowing that Sam wondered how much blood she'd gotten into him.

"How much of what and why downstairs?" Bobby looked between them. He was obviously missing something.

Dean patted Sam's shoulder and got shakily to his feet. "She was still alive when she made that thing. It was her insurance plan." He filled Bobby in while he staggered into the kitchen and pulled two bottles of water from the fridge.

"Aw…dammit." Bobby peered back into the living room at Sam as the youngest Winchester rolled and got to his knees, leaning against the couch. "It was a dream world or something. You sure he's gonna go through withdrawal?"

Dean nodded. "I still feel every damn bruise she gave me, Bobby. Come on. Get some blankets, some more water, maybe some food?"

"Yeah. Yeah. You get him down there on your own?" Bobby was already pulling cabinets open.

"I got him," Dean said surely and went back to his brother. "Here." He handed Sam one of the bottles and opened his own, sitting on the couch while he swallowed half of it down and Sam did the same. "It won't be that bad, Sam."

Sam nodded and knew it would be. He cradled the half full bottle of water against his chest and felt…violated. "I'm kind of glad I wasn't awake while she was…making me drink." He drank more of the water, trying to clear the foul taste that was still in his mouth and realized parts of him were sore and he didn't know why. "What else did she…did she do?"

"What do you mean?" Dean watched Sam's face and the emotions skittering across it and tried to figure out what was going through his head. "She knocked me around a little. Nothing serious," He said quickly when Sam looked up in concern. "Force-fed you." He shrugged. "Why?"

"Right. Nothing. No…no reason." Sam's skin was crawling. "I just…I'm gonna take a shower before we go…downstairs." He started to use the couch to get to his feet and let Dean help get him standing. "Three days with no food or water. I feel like crap."

"You look like crap," Dean said and smirked but he was worried. There was a strange look on Sam's face that he didn't like. "Sammy?"

"I'm good. Ten minutes." Sam made his way unsteadily down the hall to the bathroom and closed himself inside before he shuddered hard enough to send him to his knees.

"He alright?" Bobby asked, coming into the living room with an arm full of blankets and a box of bottled water and food tucked under the other.

Dean frowned, still looking down the hall after his brother. "Three days. I'm telling you it wasn't more than an hour between when she woke me up and when we came out of it." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "So what was she doin' to him for those three days?" Dean met Bobby's concerned eyes. "She said…" He stopped and shook his head. "Doesn't matter. We'll take care of him. He'll be fine."

"Dean?"

"It's ok, Bobby. Let's get it set up while he's showering." Dean rose and took the blankets from him, heading for the stairs into the basement and to the panic room with a heavy heart.

Sam emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam and feeling slightly more like himself. He'd had a ridiculous, emotional moment when he'd found the clean clothes Dean had snuck in and left on the sink for him and smiled at Dean who was waiting for him in the hall.

"Ready?" Dean asked gently.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I'm good." He went down the hall and down into the basement with Dean at his back. His footsteps faltered uncertainly as they approached the panic room and Dean's hand on his back got him moving again.

"Take it easy, Sammy. It's ok," Dean assured him and kept his hand on him as they stepped over the threshold into the iron room.

"Hey, Bobby," Sam said softly and eyed the cot in the center of the room with fear.

"Hey, yourself, Sam." Bobby forced a smile. He didn't like having to lock the kid up down here again any more than Sam or his brother did. "All the comforts of home, more or less."

"Thanks. It's….it's fine." Sam smiled weakly and sat uneasily on the side of the cot.

"I got this, Bobby," Dean said and smiled when Bobby nodded with understanding.

"I'll be upstairs if you need anything."

Sam watched him leave and managed to only jump slightly when the door clanged closed. He looked over at his brother. "You should go too."

"Not this time." Dean shook his head and sat next to Sam, handing him another bottle of water. "Dude, I can't…" He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair again. "…I can't just stand out there and listen to you go through this again…alone. Don't ask me to." He knew it was just the right thing to say as Sam seemed to deflate while he watched and nod.

"Thanks, Dean." Sam smiled and bumped his shoulder into his brother's.

"That's what awesome big brothers are for." Dean glanced at Sam's profile and could see the knowledge on his brother's face. "Sam. Whatever she did to you while you were out…you were out. Don't let it eat you up."

Sam nodded in understanding. "I know, but I just…" He blew out a breath and covered his face with his hands. "I can feel it, Dean. God, I can…" He pushed up from the cot and paced around the room once. "I'm really glad you killed that bitch." Sam looked up and met Dean's concerned eyes. "Twice. Thanks."

"Wish I could kill her again," Dean growled. He swallowed the anger back because it wouldn't do either of them any good. "Come on. Sit and eat something while you still can." He knew that as the withdrawal progressed, food wouldn't be high on Sam's list, and after three days without, he needed it now. "Don't argue with me. Let's see what Bobby left us."

Sam sucked in a shuddering breath and calmed down with Dean's steady presence. "Probably Spam."

"Better be some pie in here," Dean muttered as he dug in the box, and, as he'd expected, heard Sam's chuckle behind him and smiled to himself.

Sam dropped tiredly into the chair next to the table and tried to ignore the feeling of the withdrawal easing through him. Knowing that Dean was going to stay with him this time gave him a measure of peace about having to do this again. He hadn't been sure he could face yet another lockdown in the panic room, tied down and delusional. It had seemed like too much, but now he knew he could get through it again as long as he wasn't going to be left alone to face his nightmares on his own. "Dean…"

"Keep your ovaries to yourself, dude," Dean cut him off and handed him a sandwich with a lopsided smile. "You're my little brother. I got this."

Sam opened his mouth to try and thank him again and then closed it. He shook his head with a watery smile and nodded. "Ok."

"Eat your sammie, Sammy."

"Oh, my God." Sam groaned, rolled his eyes and laughed for something he hadn't heard since he was ten. "You really don't have to stay."

Dean chuckled and sat on the edge of the table with his own sandwich. "Yeah, I really do." He watched the fear and pain in Sam's eyes finally drop away completely and smiled. It would be back, but, for now, he had it under control. He had Sam's back.

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_The End. _


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